


Amas Veritas

by RedFox13



Category: Dark Souls
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comfort, Cuddling, Cute, Date Night, Drinking, Fluff, Funny, Hurt, Kissing, M/M, Romance, Sex, handjob, jealous Ornstein
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:08:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22016908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedFox13/pseuds/RedFox13
Summary: A slip of the tongue changes the fate of the Abysswalker. Ornstein comes to terms with his misplaced affections. Artorias and Ornstein fall in love with each other.
Relationships: Ornstein/Artorias - Relationship
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

It had been several weeks since Lord Gwyn departed for the Kiln. The Sun Princess and the other gods had forsaken Anor Londo, leaving Gwyndolin in charge. Gough had retired due to his failing eyesight, and Ciaran...she was reclusive and did as she pleased. Artorias had been sent out to slay a stray demon that crawled out of Lost Izalith, leaving Ornstein alone to guard the cathedral.

He gazed down at the unexpected visitor that timidly walked into the sanctuary. She wore a pale dress sewn in an antiquated style, her brown hair was braided into a crown around her head and she wore the winged tiara of Oolacile. He gracefully leapt from the balcony and landed before her with a bow. "Greetings, Princess Dusk. What brings thee to Anor Londo?"

The princess gave a polite bow. "Greeting Sir Knight. I seek the counsel of Lord Gwyndolin." She replied. Just to his left a teleportation circle appeard. Ornstein took a step back and to the side as protocol demanded. The God of the Darkmoon appeared a moment later with his catalyst in hand. "And thou shalt have it. How may I assist thee?" He asked as the princess curtseyed to him. Dusk told of a recently discovered tomb under Oolacile, a pair of Vinheim scholars appeared a day later insisting they explore. She was uncertain about granting their request, and honestly the whole situation felt wrong.

"Should I grant them entry to study the tomb?" She asked. Gwyndolin grew quiet as he pondered the situation. "I wouldn't." Ornstein muttered. He quietly cursed his breech of etiquette as they turned towards him. "Please, explain thine reasoning." Gwyndolin said with a smile. "Tis an unknown tomb of unknown origin. And by the Princess's story, it seems something ancient is buried there. With the rise of the undead, thou shalt risk awakening this being, and perhaps incite its wrath. If the choice were thine, I would bury the place and leave it be." He answered.

They both gave him a thoughtful glance. "Tis better advice than I wouldst give. I concur with Sir Ornstein, thou should bury the tomb and cast it from thine memory." Gwyndolin said as he folded his hands in front of him. Ornstein's eyes wandered the cathedral as the nobles continued to chat with each other. As Dusk bid farewell she vanished in a cascade of golden light. But the dragon slayer paid no attention to Dusk's departure. In the distance he had spotted the fuzzy, gray form of Sif racing for the cathedral.

Just behind her was Artorias, moving much slower than usual. Gwyndolin waited patiently for him to arrive. As the moon god greeted him Ornstein felt himself go tense. Normally Artorias was warm and lively, but now he seemed pale and lethargic. He bore a pained smile on his face as he adjusted the massive sword on his right shoulder. No, that's wrong. He's left handed, Ornstein thought. His left arm was limp and gently swung from his shoulder, it was broken. As he was finishing his report he begun to sway a little, causing Sif to whimper. Ornstein swore loudly as Artorias fell flat on his face and remained motionless.

With a discipline that came from centuries of training Ornstein willed himself to remain calm. Gwyndolin had been startled by his sudden collapse, but swiftly vanished to get medical supplies. Ornstein gently hefted his friend over his shoulder and hauled him to his room. Sif whined and barked nervously as Ornstein stripped him of his armor. Gwyndolin appeared minutes later with a medicine chest. The dragon slayer stepped aside while he assessed his injuries. His arm was broken, along with a few ribs. On his chest was a ragged gash from a demon's machete. On his back was a large dark purple bruise, likely from a blunt great hammer. His body was covered with smaller cuts, bruises, and strangely...burns.

The wound on his chest needed stitches, and so did a small gash above his eye. Ornstein took note of how his wounds were being bandaged because he knew he would be changing them later. His eyes wandered to his armor piled in a far corner of the room. His chest piece was damaged terribly and red with blood, it would need repairing. He had lost so much blood it was a miracle he was alive. And he walked back home in this state?!! Ornstein thought as he stood in awe of his friend's amazing strength.

He was pulled from his thoughts as Sif nudged against his leg. He gave the worried pup a reassuring pat on the head. Gwyndolin looked over with a sad smile as he began putting away his medical tools. "Sir Artorias is most fortunate, most who venture to the Demon Ruins never return." Ornstein's jaw dropped, "What? Why was he there?!!" Gwyndolin tilted his head to the side, "You were not listening then? He pursued a stray demon trespassing in the Undead Burg. After slaying it he sought the Witches of Izalith. In doing so he braved the festering swamps of Blighttown and learned the witches were hollowing or consumed by chaos. To prevent further calamity he fought the demons of Izalith and destroyed them." He explained calmly. 

Ornstein couldn't believe he had accomplished what no other knight in Lordran could do. He destroyed the demons of Chaos. As Gwyndolin departed he gave him a divine blessing, and instructions to take care of him. With a weary sigh he pulled up a chair from a nearby desk, Sif laid herself on the floor by his bed. As he kept watch his mind wandered to old memories of a distant age. Artorias and Ornstein fought the dragons side by side, then later they helped forge the newly empty kingdom they protected.

As his gaze fell on him, Ornstein winced. It made his heart ache to see him in such terrible condition. He wished he could've been there to aid him. The mad creatures of the Abyss and the DarkWraiths were his specialty, not demons. And yet he took it upon himself to vanquish them. Not even the legendary Black Knights, the personal guard of Lord Gwyn could wipe them out. Not wanting to linger in his grim mood he tried to think of happier memories. He thought of Artorias humming to himself as he cooked in the palace kitchen, of how he lovingly spoiled his canine companion, of their fierce and exhilarating duels that lasted for hours. He thought of his warm smile, of how his presence could light up a room, and how his deep blue eyes were so warm and inviting.

"Hold on!! You're not about to do this again!!" Ornstein said to himself. He had had an interest in his friend for well over a century, but he never dared to take a chance with him. He hadn't felt like romancing anyone since... The memory of his Lord brought a tear to his eyes. "Damn it!! I thought I was over that!!" He muttered as Sif looked over at him quizzically. "It's nothing." He huffed in reply.


	2. Chapter 2

Ornstein remained by Artorias's bedside for three days straight. He meticulously cleaned his wounds and changed his bandages. Once he was sure the broken bones had set properly he used a little of the divine blessing he had been given to aid the healing process. He had yet to awaken and this was making him uneasy. But Gwyndolin would ease his fears during his visits, and Sif would badger him for affection, pawing at him when Ornstein stopped petting her.

He had nodded off for a while when a gentle tapping on his shoulder jolted him awake. His eyes shot open to see Gwyndolin leaning over him. "Sir Ornstein, I admire thine dedication to Artorias's care, but thou mustn't neglect thine own needs. Thou art a living being, and subject to the laws of life. Go to thine rest. I shall tend to Sir Artorias." He said with a gentle smile. He was too tired to argue, dragging himself to his feet he trudged down the hall. In his drowsiness he nearly tripped down the stairs but caught himself at the last minute. He had never recalled a time he was so grateful to see his bed.

Storing his weapon and armor he changed into a pair of dark red sleeping pants before falling into bed. He was fast asleep before his head hit the pillow. He wasn't sure how long he had slept but it was dark when he finally awakened. Ornstein climbed out of bed with a yawn and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. On his desk nearby was a plate of food, a stack of towels, and a bar of soap. It was Gwyndolin's gentle way of insisting he take care of himself.

Reaching over he grabbed the plate and dug in with a faint smile, he quietly thanked the young god for his kindness. When he was full he left the empty plate on his desk and rummaged through his dresser for a tunic. With towels and soap in hand he headed to the baths on the other side of the cathedral. The baths were meant for public use, but with the palace empty he had it all to himself. Undressing he eased his way into the perpetually hot water and scrubbed himself clean. When he was satisfied he dried off and dressed. He paused at a mirror on the way out, running a hand through his short red hair he idly considered growing it out again.

The sound of the cathedral bells caught his attention. It was nine in the evening. Gwyndolin was likely tired by now so Ornstein wasted no time in getting back to him. Crossing the annex he glanced in the direction of the throne room, there stood Smough the executioner. He casually leaned on his massive hammer, looking bored but content. This man, if he was a man, sent chills down his spine. He was too eager to kill and anything that fell to him was swiftly devoured.

Returning to Artorias's room he found him still sleeping soundly. Gwyndolin sat nearby with his hands folded reverently in prayer. When he finished he dismissed himself for the night. Ornstein looked around as he fumbled with a candle and set it on the nightstand. Sif was nowhere to be seen, it seemed even man's best friend needed a break too. Leaning over his friend he noticed that his color had returned to normal. Sitting in the chair he gently grasped his hand as he too said a prayer for him. "Please wake up Artorias." He whispered. The dragon slayer nearly jumped from his chair when he felt Artorias gently squeeze his wrist. Turning sharply he was met by that warm smile and deep blue eyes gazing at him. "Good morning Ornstein." He said weakly.

Artorias wasn't quite sure what happened. First he was giving a report of his simple errand that turned into a week long battle. Now he found himself in his bed with his captain holding his hand looking every bit as if he'd seen a ghost. "Finally, you're awake! You had me so worried!" He said as his shock subsided. Looking down at his hand he pulled away and blushed slightly. Artorias tried to sit up, only to fall back down with a sharp pain in his side. "Don't you dare try to sit up! You broke a lot of bones with that dumbass stunt of yours!" Ornstein scolded, sounding much more like himself. A sudden howling sounded in the distance and swiftly grew closer. "Oh, no! She knows I'm up. This is gonna hurt." Artorias groaned as Sif came barreling around the corner. The puppy, that was the size of a miniature horse, leapt into the air and landed right on Artorias's broken arm.

Gwyndolin was combing his hair at his vanity when a blood chilling scream made him jump from his stool, knocking it over. He grabbed his bow and instantly teleported to the cathedral. Smough bowed at his arrival and simply pointed towards the east wing. He teleported again, appearing in Artorias's room. Ornstein was trying to pull Sif off of him and Artorias was trying to shield his face from the assault of slobbery kisses from the excited wolf pup. With a wave of his catalyst Sif vanished into thin air. "I sent thine lady to Alvina. Until thou art well, it would be best if she stayed there." He said a little shakily.  
"Thank you Lord Gwyndolin. Sif is still learning self control." Artorias replied as he wiped the drool from his face with his good hand.


	3. Chapter 3

A week had passed since Artorias had woken up. He was finally allowed out of bed for brief periods, but only under his captain's supervision. Honestly he didn't mind it except for the part where he kept feeling his eyes burning holes into him. Every time he would turn to look at him the lion knight would swiftly look away. Wanting a break from his spear wielding nurse he asked him to take his armor to the giant for repairs.  
Ornstein happily obliged, but as he gathered his armor he noticed something. His cleansing great shield was gone, curiously he asked about it. Artorias's expression grew dark as he looked away from him, a few moments of tense silence passed before he simply said, "I dropped it during the fight with the stray demon. I'll fetch it later." Not wanting to press him further he left with his armor.

He greeted the giant and presented him the armor, to which he replied. "I fix. Take long time. Come back later." Ornstein nodded as he left through the massive iron doors. Looking towards the gate he decided that he would take a walk. Recalling that the stray demon was in the recently renamed Undead Burg, he planned to go there and retrieve the cleansing great shield. Artorias wouldn't be well enough to make the trip for a while, by then a thief might try to take it.

Using a secret route to bypass the rage inducing mistake that was Sen's Fortress he arrived in the Undead Parish. There was a lone cleric tending the church altar, and a few Balder Knights guarding the place saluted him as he passed. Down through the main gate he stopped at the statue of a woman holding a child, it was Lord Gwyn's first wife. Slowly his steps led him around the corner where the crumbled remains of a statue had once been. It had begun to darken with age and was being claimed by moss and vines.

Ornstein fought back the sudden urge to cry as he stood before this defiled relic of his master. "Why did you leave me here? You promised we would never part! But then you left me without even saying farewell!" He whispered. He felt hot tears running down his cheeks as he took a shuddering breath. His master and he had been close, or at least he had thought they were. Willing himself to calm down he left the statue behind, he had a task to complete. 

He made swift progress as he marched through the upper Undead Burg. This place was ruined, everywhere he looked he saw houses reduced to ruble and scorch marks darkened the roads. He winced at bloodstains he saw as he passed. There were many who died, and by the debris sitting neglected he assumed no one survived. A heavy silence had fallen over this place, as the residents slowly turned undead they were seized and sent to the north. This place had once been vibrant and busy, it now sat lifeless and empty, almost like a hollow. He carefully made his way down the stairs, a burnt wagon sat tucked in an alleyway, the smoke lazily circling up. Even as the Undead Burg was in decline Artorias had continued to watch over the residents. He had a soft spot for humans, and made friends with those that still remained.

Ornstein circled around the well and felt his heart drop to his stomach. There in the ground surrounding the well was several graves marked with the branches of a white birch. Artorias did this with the mushroom creatures in Darkroot Garden when one died. The rotting fungus would feed the growth of the birch, a rare and magic tree in Lordran. He spotted his shield sitting at the last and smallest grave. Picking it up he found a doll underneath it, it was well used but taken care of, now it sat watch over its owner's resting place. "By the Gods!! A child..." Ornstein numbly knelt at the grave in stunned silence. He understood why Artorias had reacted like he did.

A sudden curiosity compelled him to venture to the last place he ever wanted to visit, the Demon Ruins. Making sure he was prepared for the trip he strapped the great shield to his back and descended into the depths. The sewer system was easy compared to what he found in Blighttown. He quickly became confused trying to navigate the patchwork huts and shady paths before deciding to leap down the ledges to the swamp below. The moment he landed in the water he felt woozy. Poison he thought as he dashed to the far side. Once near the cave that led to the lower bell he took some purple moss.

Climbing up the hill he ducked down as he passed through the tunnel leading to Quelaag's domain. When the cave widened into a tall chamber he straightened up and drew his spear. There was no trace of the bell guardian, but if she was watching him he knew she wouldn't be happy to see him. But thankfully he passed through without conflict, the heat intensified as he climbed down the stairs into the Demon Ruins.

Everything was quiet except for the roar of the lava. Nothing moved, but off in the distance he saw several shapes on the ground. They turned out to be Taurus demons, about seven, all brutally hacked to pieces. "Damn he was two handing his weapon!" Ornstein remarked as he examined their wounds. Making the trek down into the ruins he found all manner of demons, or rather what remained of them. In the hands of one Capra demon was a bloodied machete, and a Demon Firesage still clutched a massive hammer. "Those must've been the ones that wounded him." He said to himself.

Ornstein tugged off his helmet to wipe away the sweat and tried to get a breath of stiflingly hot air. He was disturbed by what he saw, the scale of the carnage was something he hadn't seen since the dragon wars. And to think one so kind and caring was capable of this. Artorias must've been furious, he thought as he replaced his helmet. He wanted to see if anything remained, but he was slowly starting to roast in his armor. Not wanting to deal with Blighttown, Ornstein cast a homeward miracle and returned to Anor Londo.

The dragon slayer wrinkled his nose in disgust when he noticed the pungent stench of sewer and sulphur that clung to him. Stashing away the great shield and his spear he stripped off his armor and left it lying on the floor of his bedroom. He grabbed a robe from his closet with a towel and some clean clothes before going to the baths. As he drew near he heard the sound of someone inside. Looks like I'm not alone this time, Ornstein thought as he rounded the corner.

The lion knight halted in his tracks, and what he saw made him blush. The man in the bath had a slender, athletic build with a sun kissed tan and messy raven black hair. He moved with a subtle grace that he found mesmerizing. Gods! Who is this gorgeous man? Ornstein thought. As he noticed the massive yellow bruise on his back and myriad of scars he felt his heart clench. The way he refrained from using his left arm confirmed who it was. He felt his face getting hot from shame, and as if things couldn't get worse, Artorias turned around. His face flickered from surprise to concern as he saw Ornstein standing there. "Are you alright? Your nose is bleeding." He asked. "I forgot something." He swiftly blurted in reply as he ran from the room. 

He crossed the hall into the women's bath and wiped his face, his hand came back smeared with bright red blood. Quietly he cursed his reaction and tried to calm himself. Deciding not to go back he disrobed and climbed into the equally warm women's bath. He thought he would be alone there too, but as he ducked under the water to wet his head he saw a familiar mass of serpents peering at him. Coming back up he found Gwyndolin staring at him curiously as he scrubbed his back. "It's been centuries since I've seen that look. Thou art falling in love again." He said casually.


	4. Chapter 4

Ornstein could deny it all he wanted, but in truth he was slowly falling in love again. He didn't want to, especially not after last time, he didn't want to get hurt again. He had fallen in love with the Lord's eldest son, who had always treated him kindly and even returned his affection in some cases. But Gwyndolin had warned him many times that his love was one sided, that the god of war's only loves were conquest and dragons. His Lord had promised that his loyal knight would always remain at his side. But with the discovery of the infant dragon Midir he was banished from Lordran.

He pleaded to go with him, but his Lord coldly ignored him as he departed during the night on the back of his Oni. He didn't give him a second glance as Ornstein fell to his knees, and broke down in tears. He had felt as if his heart had been ripped out. In the following years he fell into a depression, some days he couldn't even get out of bed. And during all this Artorias had faithfully stayed by his side comforting him and stepping in for him when he couldn't perform his duties. Meanwhile Ornstein had been sitting in the bath deep in thought, Gwyndolin had left an hour ago leaving him alone. Remembering he still had to check on his friend he climbed out and got dressed.

He started to grow anxious when he saw that he wasn't in his room. Nor was he in the kitchen, the library, the cathedral annex, or even in the training room. Ornstein shook his head, "Why would he be there? His arm is still in a sling." He muttered as he walked along the palace garden, a thin sliver of moon dimly lit the path. Tucked away in the back corner was a shrine to Velka. Here sinners came to pray for penance when a pardoner wasn't available. As he glanced into the entrance the scent of incense caught his attention. There he found Artorias kneeling before the statue, his head was bowed in prayer. The statue had an enchantment placed on it to let pilgrims know that their prayers were heard. "You have not sinned." It whispered. He continued to pray. "You have not sinned." It repeated.

With a weary sigh he stood and left. He looked utterly distraught but upon spotting his captain he smiled. "Sorry, had something to take care of here." He said as he fell in step next to him. He wanted to ask him what was wrong, but his gut said not to. "You need to be resting. Not roaming the grounds." Ornstein gently scolded. "Yes, I should. But I was feeling restless... And thanks for repairing my armor. I should be able to join you on guard duty soon." Ornstein grinned, "That's great. Smough doesn't talk very much." He had to look away as the memory of earlier came to him. He had never seen him like that before, but that was because their schedules meant they were rarely around each other.

His face grew hot once again in anticipation that he might see more of him. But he quickly dismissed the thought. "Ornstein?" He looked over to see Artorias watching him. "If it's alright, I would like to cook something." He gave a thoughtful glance as he looked him over. "I'm guessing Smough has been tending the kitchen?" The lion knight felt his skin crawl at the mention of the jolly executioner but nodded. "Gwyndolin asked him to cook, he said if I did then my cooking would likely sicken you more." He rolled his eyes as Artorias laughed.

When Artorias asked to cook a meal he had actually expected to cook. But Ornstein voluntarily took care of most of the work since it required both arms. So he had to sit in a chair by the stove and tend the fire while making sure his captain didn't screw up. As the lion knight stood with his back to him chopping vegetables Artorias found himself lost in thought. He smiled a little at the memory of Ornstein in the bath, when his Lord was around he developed a problem with nosebleeds. Many times he would yank his helmet off to reveal trickles of dried blood on his face. He hadn't seen him do that in centuries, and he only did that when he was falling hard for someone.

You have feelings for me don't you. Ornstein jumped and turned sharply to look at him. Artorias looked up in surprise, his captain's face was red again. "No I don't !" He snapped. Oops, I was thinking out loud again. He thought. With his task finished the dragon slayer swiftly excused himself. "It seems you do." He mumbled as he threw another stick in the fire. To be honest it made him happy, he had always cared deeply for Ornstein. But he never made any attempts to flirt with him since he only ever seemed to be interested in Gwyn's firstborn. Ciaran had feelings for him, but after she learned that women didn't interest him she grew distant. Eventually she left Anor Londo and kept Hawkeye Gough company in Oolacile.

"I should check on them when I'm well again." Artorias said to himself as he stirred a pot. It felt awkward to use his right hand, but it would be another week before his arm was usable. It would've been longer if it wasn't for Gwyndolin's skills and Ornstein's care. As he set the small table in the kitchen he began to hum a song he heard long ago. After a few minutes the tromp of heavy boots caused him to look up. Smough entered from the dining hall and made his way to the pantry. He spotted Artorias when he returned with a piece of smoked meat. "Good morning Sir Artorias. How are you faring today?" He could hear the glee in his voice, and he found it unsettling that one could be so happy all the time. "To you as well. I'm doing fine." He smiled as Smough chuckled a little.

Ornstein had been in the annex banging his head on a column and cursing himself for his reaction. A group of Silver Knights watched from the throne room, all looked on in confusion and whispered amongst each other at his odd behavior. Not wanting to cause a further scene he returned to the kitchen. As he entered the dining area he heard a few people talking. Pushing the door open he saw Gwyndolin drinking a cup of tea. Artorias was discussing how best to season game, and standing next to him was...Smough!! The sight of him there made his blood boil, if the Darkmoon god hadn't been sitting there he would've let loose his lightning. You stay away from my Artorias you fiend!! He thought as he glared at him.

Sensing his rage the jolly murderer left to tend to a few tasks for his Lord. After his morning tea Gwyndolin departed leaving the two alone. They enjoyed their meal in a peaceful silence. Ornstein couldn't help but chuckle at the wolf knight's attempts to eat with his right hand. But the other shot him a look, "If looks could kill then you could've slain the dragons by yourself." Ornstein looked down at his plate, "Was I that obvious?" He mumbled. "Your fist was crackling with lightning." He replied. "Don't be jealous, it's unbecoming of you. Besides I don't fancy Smough."

This made the dragon slayer feel relieved and curious. "Who do you fancy?" He asked. The Abysswalker's face colored as he looked away. That was the only answer Ornstein needed.


	5. Chapter 5

Summer turned to winter and Artorias made a full recovery. He took up the evening watch in the throne room, followed by Smough for night watch. That evening Gwyndolin had sent out Ornstein to collect rime blue moss and green blossoms. Artorias had sent Sif with him since she had a nose for the elusive annual plant. Ornstein was kneeling at a cliff side in Darkroot garden scraping some moss off a stone into a pouch. Down below Sif was sniffing out the green blossom on the edge of the pond. He shivered slightly as he picked up another stone, he was not fond of the cold and was looking forward to warming himself by a fire.

Focusing on completing his task he ignored the large enchanted red cap lumbering about nearby. As it got closer the mushroom decided it didn't like the idea of Ornstein being there, so it waddled up to him and let loose a furious swing that hit him in the back of his head. He was sent tumbling off the cliff and landed with a thud and a splash. He had fallen halfway into the pond and was unconscious. Sif saw what happened and came running. It took a few tries but she dragged Ornstein out of the water. Not wanting to leave him she laid herself across him and begun to howl as loudly as she could.

As soon as Smough took over at his post Artorias had set out to look for Ornstein. It was nearly ten o' clock and bitterly cold out, he should've been back a few hours ago. And deep down something didn't feel right. As he reached Darkroot garden he was met by Sif's ear splitting cries. He raced off towards her, ignoring the plant like residents of the garden that swung their vine like appendages at him. He found Ornstein and Sif at the base of a cliff with a ladder that led to Darkroot basin. He was still out and Sif was trying to keep him warm. "Good job Sif!" He called as he slid down the ladder. "Go home." He ordered. Sif looked uncertain and barked nervously. "It's alright, I'm going to use a miracle. We'll meet you there." He said as he reached into his satchel for a scroll. Sif raced off into the night as Artorias recited a prayer.

A few hours later Ornstein finally began to come around. He felt comfortably warm and almost wanted to go back to sleep until he realized he wasn't in Darkroot garden. Opening his eyes he found himself in his bedroom, he was wearing a nightshirt and wrapped in his heavy quilt. Against the far wall a fire crackled loudly, and surprisingly Sif was next to it curled up sleeping. He tried to sit up but something was holding him in place, looking down he was greeted by something he never thought possible. There was Artorias, wearing a blue set of pajamas. He was laying with his head on Ornstein's chest and his arm draped over him. He looks so peaceful, he thought as he watched him sleep. Almost impulsively he began to run his fingers through his messy dark hair. He found it rather comforting since his Lord used to do it to him the few times they shared a bed.

His movement woke him and the dragon slayer pulled his hand away quickly when he looked up. "Good morning. Are you feeling better? You took quite a fall." He asked sleepily. "I got my ass kicked by a mushroom! How do you think I feel?" Ornstein replied sarcastically. Artorias laughed at his reply and slowly began to get up. "I should be going, you need your rest-" He was cut short by Ornstein grabbing his hand. "Please stay. You need your rest too." He said quietly. Artorias smiled warmly as he laid back down. 

Just before sunrise Gwyndolin cracked Ornstein's door open to check on him. He had his arms wrapped around Artorias and a smile on his face as he dreamed. "Thou art the cutest, knights of Gwyn." He whispered as he closed the door. The morning sun was pouring through the window when Ornstein woke again. Artorias and Sif were gone, he considered going to see if they were on watch but his stomach started growling loudly. Instead he dressed himself and wandered down to the kitchen. As he walked through the dining hall a delicious scent made his mouth water. The sound of a long forgotten melody accompanied by sizzling greeted him as he opened the kitchen door.

The Abysswalker had just finished cooking breakfast, nearby Sif was gnawing on a large bone shaped pancake laced with chunks of meat. He picked up a plate and set it down at a spot at the table. "You're just in time, Gywndolin wanted you to take morning watch, so I was making sure you eat first." There on his plate was a pancake shaped like a rather cartoonish lion and a few sausage patties. "How the hell do you make food look so whimsical?" He asked as he sat down to dig in. "It's a secret." Artorias gave a teasing glance as he sat down with his plate. He had made his pancake to look like a mushroom with stumpy legs and large angry eyes.

Ornstein winced at the memory of being knocked silly by the fickle fungus. "About last night. I just wanted to say thank you for saving me. And for keeping an eye on me." He said with a half smile. Artorias replied, "Think nothing of it, you've done it for me many times. Oh...sorry for falling asleep on you. I was tired and the bed was soft... I wasn't planning to sleep as long as I did..." Ornstein watched as his face colored slightly. "I enjoyed that." He said quietly as his own face turned red.

All that morning he stood up on the balcony and kept watch. Several times the lion knight spied Artorias shuffling about stacks of paperwork, he gave a satisfied smirk at the thought of someone else doing his least favorite task. The day drug on and eventually he found himself getting bored, stretching his legs he paced the length of the inner sanctuary, occasionally glancing out the windows. Down below he could see the shrine of Velka in the palace garden. A familiar set of silver and blue armor glinted in the sun as it's owner knelt reverently in prayer. After seeing Artorias there for well over an hour he began to worry about him. "What could he have done that was so horrible that he's still requesting absolution?" He said to no one.

"He often spends time there when not in your company or completing a task. He has not sinned, else I'd've known, yet he still feels he needs forgiveness. Thou should see what troubles him." Gwyndolin replied as he approached. The dragon slayer turned to greet him with a bow. A pair of warriors he had never seen before stood behind him. "These are new members of the Darkmoon knights. They shalt aid thee in guarding Anor Londo. They gave a salute that made him wonder why they weren't wearing Silver Knight gear. "They art here to relieve thee from thy post." Gwyndolin smiled as he turned to leave.

Finally free for the day he went to his room. Returning his armor to its stand he spied the cleansing great shield sitting neglected in the corner. It had a faint layer of dust on it from disuse. It's been months and he hasn't asked about it? Ornstein thought as he picked it up. "That's strange. I need to give this back to him." He mumbled as he set it on his bed. Digging through his side table he got a few cleaning supplies and set to work on touching up the shield.


	6. Chapter 6

Artorias stood on watch in the darkened cathedral. Sif sat by his feet looking bored, occasionally jumping up at a noise only to sit back down. In the shadows of the annex he saw his captain lingering near a column. He kept glancing his way and looked as if he was pondering something. Ornstein watched Artorias from the annex, his shield was strapped to his back. He was trying to read his mood, but his face was obscured in the shadows of his cowl.

He wasn't sure how this talk would go, and honestly it left him feeling nervous. Taking a breath he steeled himself and walked into the sanctuary. "Have a minute?" He asked when he was close enough. Artorias shrugged his shoulders, "I suppose. What's going on?" Ornstein wordlessly removed the shield and held it out to him. Artorias grew statue still, and Sif bolted from the room with her tail between her legs. "Why did you bring this back?" His voice took on an sad tone. Ornstein simply replied, "It's yours. You were meant to have it."

"I don't deserve to keep it." He said with a shaky breath. "I lost my right to use it when I failed to carry out my duties." Ornstein thought he caught a glimpse of a tear on his cheek. The cleansing great shield had been given to him by a divine blacksmith when he first became a Knight of Gwyn. It was a symbol of the people he had protected for generations. "It wasn't your fault the demon attacked." Ornstein said quietly. "It wasn't just the demons." Artorias replied as his voice iced over. "In my grief I nearly succumbed to the darkness of the Abyss. I let my rage fuel my revenge, and I slaughtered the demons without mercy. I even cut down those that ran from me."

Ornstein was in disbelief. "What?! But you haven't been anywhere near the Abyss since...New Londo." Artorias quietly wiped away a stray tear. "How do you build up immunity to poison?" He asked suddenly. The lion knight raised an eyebrow, "By exposure?" He answered. Artorias nodded as he slipped a ring off his finger and handed it to him. It was a simple gold band with a blue black gem in it. On closer inspection he realized the gem was a crystallized fragment of Abyss. "Put it on." Artorias urged. Ornstein swallowed nervously as he looked at him, timidly he slipped it onto his finger.

The room suddenly darkened as if one closed the cathedral's curtains. The air turned cold and stale, he coughed slightly as it clawed at his throat. Is the what the Abyss is like? He thought. Looking up at Artorias he saw just how badly scarred by the Abyss he was. His once vibrant soul had turned a dark violet, wisps of shadow rolled off of him like fog. His skin had turned a sickly pale and his eyes glowed a hellish red. Blue-black tears streamed down the wolf knight's cheeks as he wept.

Ornstein tugged off the ring and shoved it back into his hands. "Keep that thing away from me." He whispered. Artorias nodded, "I'm sorry. I forget that most aren't prepared for such a sight. I'm afraid I've grown used to it." The lion knight let out a shuddering breath as the room around him and his friend returned to normal. He fell silent as he tried to process what he had just witnessed. To think that was normal for him made him want to cry. No wonder he was so upset by what happened in the Undead Burg. He felt horrible for retaliating against the demons. They had no grasp of right or wrong, in fact they were no more sane than the creatures of the Abyss. He had sought absolution for what he felt was a sin, but by law wasn't. And no one had granted it.

Ornstein cautiously set the great shield down and approached Artorias. Gently he pulled his cowl down and took him in an embrace. He was quiet as he let Artorias cry on his shoulder. Once more he idly ran his fingers through his hair, after a while he noticed the tension slowly fading from him as he tried to comfort him. "I grant thee absolution of thy sins. Be at peace Abysswalker." The dragon slayer whispered. Artorias pulled away with a smile on his face. "You have my thanks." He replied.

After that night he stopped visiting the shrine. Ornstein couldn't help but notice how peaceful he looked and it made him smile. He was heading down to the baths after a rigorous sparring session with the new Darkmoon knights. He was lost in thought as he mentally analyzed their fighting styles. Casually he disrobed and stepped into the water, ducking under to wet his hair. Movement to his right caught his eye, turning to look he saw Artorias.

Artorias was scrubbing himself when he saw Ornstein enter the bath and submerge. A moment later a trickle of blood appeared in the water. "Another nosebleed?" He muttered as he rolled his eyes. The lion knight came up sputtering and bright red. He had gotten a good look at the wolf knight's divine blessing. "You like what you see?" He teased as he watched him look away. "Yes." He said quietly. "You know, you're fairly gorgeous yourself." Artorias chuckled. Ornstein had a tall and muscular build with graceful features, fiery copper hair, and bright green eyes that could pierce as sharply as his spear. And many times he was thankful his cowl could hide his glances.

Ornstein raised an eyebrow as Artorias drifted closer with a devilish grin. "You know, it's clear that we both feel for each other. Why don't we do something about it?" He asked casually as he leaned against the edge of the pool. "Well, what do you propose we do?" He asked. "How about a date?" Artorias grinned. "You realize you're the only man thats ever asked someone out while naked in a bath and still got a yes?" The lion knight replied sarcastically. "Would you have said no?" He shot back. That shut him up.


	7. Chapter 7

The next evening Artorias had planned a lovely evening, but fate threw a wrench in his plans. Gwyndolin had asked him and Smough to cook a group dinner for the palace. It was the anniversary of Lord Gwyn's founding of Lordran, and it was a holy day in Anor Londo. Upon hearing their date was postponed Ornstein took out his agitation in the training room. And when he heard Smough would be spending the day with Artorias... The lightning he loosed could be seen from the main gate. Both the Silver knights and the Darkmoon blades kept a healthy distance from him.

Fearing the accidental electrocution of the other knights, Gwyndolin pulled the wolf knight aside and told him of Ornstein's tantrum. Reassuring the Darkmoon god, he went to the training room to calm him. "You need to relax. Your scaring everyone, especially Gwyndolin." He said as he strolled up to Ornstein. "I can't stand the thought of that giddy, man eating, brute so close to you!! What if he gets hungry?!!" He snapped as he thrust his spear, splitting a training dummy in half. "Come here." Artorias said calmly. The dragon slayer yanked his helmet off as he turned to face him. "You have no authority to-" He started, but was cut short by Artorias grabbing his spear and pulling him closer. He wrapped his free hand around the back of Ornstein's neck and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. Any protests from him ceased as he dropped his spear and helmet. The only sound was the clank of their armor as Ornstein embraced him and deepened the kiss.

He finally let go when Artorias pulled away to breathe. "There's more where that came from. But you must promise to behave yourself." He panted as he returned his spear and helmet. The lion knight put it on to cover his blush, and as Artorias left he glanced over his shoulder. "Ornstein? Your nose is bleeding again." He called back as he spied blood dripping from the mouth of the lion which was also his visor. All that day Ornstein behaved with the manners of a saint, he even offered to help with preparing the dining hall.

Gwyndolin used his sorcery to create illusionary servers and a group of musicians. They rehearsed as the day wore on, and with most of the preparations complete the knights all retired to their rooms to get ready. Artorias took the time to give Sif a bath, to which she woefully protested and switched out his cloak for a spare he had that wasn't so worn out. Ornstein scrubbed the blood out of his helmet and stuck a clump of red moss in his nose to prevent further incident.  
The Silver Knights polished their gear to a brilliant sheen, and the Darkmoon blades wore their nicest outfits. 

The Knights of Gwyn had the honor of escorting Gwyndolin to the dining hall. All the others had gathered and the knights stood at attention when Gwyndolin arrived. Artorias and Ornstein took their spots nearby as the young god began the festivities. It was a much smaller gathering than in previous years, but it was much more lively. For Gwyn all holy days were solemn affairs, but with him in the Kiln things were much more relaxed. There was food, wine, and laughter in equal measure. And during some songs the knights would get up and dance. One of the Silver Knights twirled awkwardly with a female Darkmoon knight. Most of the dance he was bent over due to their height difference.

Ornstein gave a mischievous glance to Artorias. "Feel like showing off?" He asked. Artorias gave a sly smile as he sipped his wine. "Sure. Next song." He replied. As the next song started they made their way to the dance floor in the middle of the dining hall. Putting his arm around Artorias's waist Ornstein took the lead. They danced much like they fought, with precision, grace, and elegance. They quickly forgot where they were as they got lost in the music. They weaved and waltzed through the other dancers, oblivious to everything. They were finally pulled from their focus by cheering and applause. Stopping to look around they realized the onlookers were applauding them. Both separated and bowed gracefully before making their way to their seats. "I must say, thou art mesmerizing in thine dance. 'Twas a beautiful sight." Gwyndolin grinned as he greeted them. "Oh! I mustn't forget. Sir Ornstein, someone awaits thee in the kitchen. They wish to speak with thee." He added as he reached for his glass.

The dragon slayer quietly dismissed himself and slipped into the kitchen. Inside he saw someone he was unfamiliar with. He was broad shouldered and muscular, built almost like a mountain. He had scruffy reddish-brown hair and a frizzy beard. He had large dark eyes and wore a curious smile on his face. He was dressed in a gray tunic and dark pants with an apron around his waist. "Greetings Sir Ornstein." The lion knight thought he had moss in his ears. "Smough?" He asked. "Yes, the very same. I look different without my armor don't I ?" Ornstein nodded making Smough chuckle.

"I shall not waste words. It has come to my attention that you are upset with me. I'm uncertain of what I've done to offend you, but I ask your forgiveness and ask that you accept this token of peace." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an ornate iron key with Gwyn's crest on it. "It is the key to the royal wine cellar. As well as executioner I have the role of master winemaker. This was our Lord's personal key. Now I wish for you to keep it." He explained. Ornstein was deeply touched by his gift, and truth be told he had always wanted to try some of the Lord's good wine. Ornstein winced at the memory of his earlier behavior, "I should be apologizing to you Smough. I've acted poorly towards you without any good reason. Please forgive me."

Smough smiled widely, "All is forgiven. Oh, and fret not about your dear Artorias. I don't eat knights, they're too chewy, and far too much gristle. I swear to never lay a hand on him." Ornstein wasn't sure to be appalled or glad to hear that. Smough walked off to tend the stove and Ornstein returned to the party. Grabbing Artorias by the arm he pulled him away from the party and into the annex.


	8. Chapter 8

"Where are we?" Artorias asked as he followed along behind Ornstein. His captain had led him to an older part of the cathedral and down into a damp, cold tunnel. Ornstein sneezed as their passage stirred up clouds of dust. "You'll see. Smough and I had a heart to heart in the kitchen. He gave me a key, this evening is about to get fun." Artorias could hear the grin in his voice. "Well at least you two are finally getting along." He muttered. After stumbling about in the dark for a little ways they were met by a heavy iron door. The locks creaked open as Ornstein turned the key and the rusty door slowly swung open to reveal a wine cellar.

"This is Gwyn's personal stash!" Artorias gasped upon seeing The Lord of Sunlight's crest painted on a nearby wall. "Smough's been the one making Lord Gwyn's wine for the past millennium. He gave me Gwyn's key, I don't know about you, but I intend to get a couple bottles." The lion knight said as he examined the racks along the wall. Spying a particular year he tugged two bottles free and brushed off the dust. He handed Artorias a bottle and made for the door. Returning from the cellar they went up into the annex then out into the garden. The stars glistened like diamonds as a vibrant aurora arced across the sky. The air was crisp and cool, a layer of frost coated everything in icy white and sparkled in the light of the nearby cathedral.

Uncorking their bottles they clinked them together in a toast as they begun to stroll the grounds. "You sure Gwyndolin won't mind? This stuff kinda belongs to him now." Artorias said as he took a sip. "He abstains from alcohol. Claims it messes with his ability to work sorcery." Ornstein replied as he made a face. "Damn this is smooth! And it's a great vintage, first era, year seventeen." He smiled as he took another gulp. Artorias gave him a sideways glance before quietly saying, "That's the year we met, and when we became Knights of Gwyn."

Ornstein nodded as he took another swig, not only was the wine strong but it was fast acting. Pausing to lean on a railing overlooking the city he couldn't help but let his eyes wander from the pale spires stretching skyward to the wolf knight's graceful frame. "The night suits you, the darkness gives you a mysterious aura." He said as Artorias looked over at him. "You look majestic when you pose with your spear during guard duty." He replied teasingly. "I'm not posing! I'm just standing there!" He replied as he put his hand on his hip.

"Well what do you call this?" Artorias asked as he mimicked Ornstein leaning on his spear and strutting about in an exaggerated manner. "Fuck you!" Ornstein snapped. "When and where?" He smiled. The lion knight fell silent as his face grew hot again. "You don't really mean that do you?" He mumbled. Artorias responded by kissing him on the cheek, "Would I ever tease you in such a cruel manner?" As Ornstein looked into his eyes he could tell he was serious. "My place or yours?" He asked. "Definitely yours, Sif has no concept of privacy." Artorias sighed.

That night was the best night of Artorias's life. And if love could be compared to fire, then their love for each other made the first flame look pale. Ornstein had the time of his life putting to use everything that he had learned from his Lord, and the sound of Artorias practically screaming his name was music to his ears. That morning they slept in, Ornstein was laying on his lover's chest listening to his heart steadily drumming away. For the first time in centuries he felt truly happy, as he sighed at the memory of last night Artorias began to idly run his fingers through Ornstein's hair. It was starting to get long again, it stopped just at his shoulders and he had to start tying it up again.

The dragon slayer melted at his touch, it felt so different from his Lord. Perhaps it's because he really did love him. He wanted to stay that way, but a sudden scratching at his door compelled him to get up. Putting his pants on he answered the door while Artorias sat up. He burst into laughter as Sif bum rushed Ornstein and knocked him to the floor, she proceeded to assault him with frantic kisses. "Why Sif?!!" He cried. "Artorias! Help me!!"

Several years had passed since Lord Gwyn departed. Ornstein trained the Darkmoon blades as the number of Silver Knights began to dwindle. Artorias and Sif patrolled the streets of the city at night, and Smough guarded the inner sanctuary when he wasn't making wine. Word reached the palace that Hawkeye Gough shot down Kalameet and with the help of an undead warrior he was defeated. Oolacile thrived under Princess Dusk's rule, and Ciaran entered her service as a body guard. She also trained a group of warriors in combating the creatures of the Abyss.

After a particularly rigorous training session Ornstein decided to take a rest in his room. Just as he finished changing clothes and laid down he heard a knock on his door. He ignored it at first until he heard the pattering of paws outside. "Come in." He called. "Hey, heard you ran the Darkmoon blades ragged today." Ornstein sat up as Artorias joined him on the bed, he could tell he just got back from an assignment. "Yeah, I keep forgetting that they don't have centuries of training. I'm used to all out sparring for hours on end. But damn it makes me sore!" He grimaced as he rolled his shoulders. "I could help you with that?" Artorias offered. "Alright, I suppose." Ornstein sighed.

Sitting behind him Artorias firmly grasped him by the shoulders and begun to knead away the tension. While doing so he would place playful kisses along Ornstein's neck and cheek. Shifting position he let his left hand go down to his waist, the dragon slayer felt the heat in his face pool into his stomach when Artorias said, "It seems you've got some tension here too. Allow me to help you with it." The lion knight made no protest as Artorias gently grasped his other spear and slowly began to work on him down below. "You-ah! You're having fun with this aren't you?!!" Ornstein asked as he leaned his head onto Artorias's shoulder. Artorias simply giggled in reply. "I love you." Ornstein said quietly. "I love you too." Artorias replied as he leaned over and kissed Ornstein's ear lobe making him squirm and moan softly. "You know Sif is staring at us?" He asked as he spied her sitting in the corner. "Do you think she cares?" Artorias replied sarcastically. True, he thought.


	9. Chapter 9

The Age of Fire was long and prosperous, Lordran thrived under Gwyndolin's guidance. Smough began training under Ornstein so he could be more helpful during invasions. And as the ranks of the knights steadily declined illusions were placed throughout the city to confuse invaders. A Darkmoon knightess that nearly went hollow was given the roll of Fire Keeper. And a herald from Oolacile brought sad news of Hawkeye Gough and Ciaran's passing.

This saddened the remaining Knights of Gwyn. A private funeral was held for them in Darkroot garden where they were buried. Fearing grave robbers Artorias asked Sif to guard them. Considering she was nearly fully grown it was getting hard for her to navigate the narrow palace hallways. She would be happier in the forest, and she also was given a great sword for self defense. Later that year Artorias and Ornstein got married in a private ceremony, Gwyndolin was overjoyed at the chance to officiate.

Once more the fire began to fade, Artorias and Ornstein guarded the cathedral to await the arrival of the Chosen Undead. During their wait they took their time to say their goodbyes. And eventually a lone warrior arrived to face them. The fading of the fire and the passage of time had taken a toll on them, and after countless attempts both of them fell to the undead warrior. Smough was left alone as the last knight to guard the cathedral of Anor Londo.

Artorias and Ornstein were buried in a secret place by Gwyndolin. As centuries flowed by they were forgotten, and with the usurpation of the old gods by Aldrich and Suhlyvahn came the building of a new cathedral. The grave of the two knights was accidentally discovered and pillaged. Their bones were dumped in a shared grave in what later became known as the Cemetery of Ash. But like everything that died in Lordran they returned once again.

The last thing Ornstein remembered was dying to an undead warrior. As the tolling bell stirred him from his sleep he awoke to discover he was in a stone coffin. "Artorias?" He called as something moved next to him. "I'm here. We died didn't we? Eww there's a worm in my ear!!" He said. Ornstein snickered. "Yes we did. It seems were undead now. It's cold, and...what the?!! My armor is gone!!" That struck a nerve, the thought of someone taking it off of his corpse angered him. "Where's my spear?" He asked as he began to fumble around the darkened coffin. "That is not your spear!!" Artorias cried suddenly.

After a few hours they freed themselves from the coffin. Slaying some nearby hollows they stripped them of their grave robes and swords. They had a viscous fight with a corrupted knight wielding a massive iron halberd, and tiredly they stumbled into Firelink Shrine. A white haired woman in black robes and wearing a silver mask over her eyes stood before an unlit bonfire. "Welcome to the bonfire Unkindled ones. I am a Firekeeper..."

"Oh no! Not this shit again!!" Ornstein groaned.


End file.
